It Changes Nothing
by edleweiss
Summary: Shae demands to know why Tyrion has not consummated his marriage. Tyrion struggles to explain himself. Exclusively show-verse. Spoilers for Season 3.


To the incredulity of my book-reading friends, Tyrion and Shae has long been my favorite Game of Thrones couple. Season 4's not-so-subtle hints that there won't be a happy ending to their story have left me yearning for the (relatively) happier times of last season while I cling to what is most likely a futile hope that this pairing did not just go up in flames.

This takes place following Tyrion's wedding and is entirely based on the show.

* * *

"Why didn't you fuck her?"

Tyrion winced as Shae's voice, shrill with rage, pierced his skull and the door banged shut behind her. He was in no mood to have yet another conversation about his marriage to the Stark girl. He had wanted nothing more from the day than to curl up and sleep until his head no longer ached and his stomach no longer churned. But that was not an option: his new wife did not want him in their bed and his father had ordered him to find the coin to pay for the two other royal weddings looming in the future. An impossible task, considering the state in which Baelish had left the treasury and the increasing lavishness of the wedding plans as the Lannisters and Tyrells sought to out-do one another.

And now, it looked as if he would also have to add extinguishing Shae's latest tantrum to the list he must accomplish before he could rest. He felt as if he was scrambling to keep his head above water. Truly, Tyrion wished he had succeeded in drowning himself in wine the night before. Reluctantly he lowered the cool goblet that he had had pressed to his head and turned in his chair to face his irritated mistress.

"Lower. Your. Voice," he commanded. In that moment, Tyrion embodied the Lannister ferocity. His blue eyes blazed murderously, the same as Cersei and Joffery's, and the hard set of his jaw was Jaime in the lists. The chilling precision with which he had spoken echoed his lord father. The effect was arresting and Shae involuntarily released the breath she had sucked in in preparation to shout at him again.

But her speechless did not last and persistently, she hissed her question again, "Why didn't you fuck her?"

"Wasn't that what you wanted!" Tyrion groaned, pressing at his temples in an effort to hold his splitting head together.

"What _I _want doesn't matter! _I_ didn't want you to marry her but you married her anyway. You said you had to, because your father said to. Now your father says to fuck her but you don't. So why now—"

"Because she's a child!" he spat.

"Then why did you marry the child?" Shae's expression was incredulous. "Didn't you think your father would make you fuck her eventually?"

Tyrion clambered down from his chair and stormed across the solar towards her. When he reached her, he seized the skirt of her dress in his fists. He had to occupy his hands somehow or else he feared would succumb to the urge to slap her and he refused to do something so base and vile as to strike the woman he loved.

"Do you really think that I had a choice in all of this?" Tyrion exclaimed through gritted teeth. "My father has a bad habit of always getting exactly what he wants. Anyone who defies him ends up with his head on a pike somewhere. He wanted Sansa Stark married to a Lannister and, considering that I was the only Lannister available and prefer my blood to remain in my veins, unspilled, I _didn't_ really have much choice in the matter.

"Besides, that child has lost almost everything." He was speaking like Lord Tywin again, his perfect diction reigning his vehemence back into check. "Her father, her mother, her brothers—all dead! Her sister has vanished and her home has been reduced to ashes. Day after day she is subjected to Joffery's torture and my sister and father's scheming. If I hadn't married her, my father would have given her to someone worse. A Clegane perhaps. Or maybe to Joffrey as a mistress. She's suffered enough without being saddled with one of her tormenters as her bedmate.

"I refuse to bed her, in spite of my father's commands and threats because I'm not eager to force myself on an innocent little girl. I'm not exactly the handsome knight from the songs she's always humming." Tyrion gave a rueful snort. Then he became serious again. He said softly, "The idea of taking her by force and adding to the torments of that poor girl sickens me."

Tyrion fell silent. Slowly, he released Shae's dress from his grip and the rage faded from his face. Despondence replaced his anger. When he finally looked up to meet Shae's eyes again, her face was expressionless and she said nothing further. "I don't think there's anything left to say on the subject," he noted quietly. "I must get back to the books."

Shae nodded. "My lady will be waiting to have her hair arranged."

_Ah, the ever present elephant in the room_, Tyrion thought as he turned his back on Shae and returned to the table. _I should have shipped Sansa Stark to her aunt in the Vale while I still had the power._

Light footfalls carried Shae from the solar. When the door clunked shut behind her, frustration welled up in Tyrion again and he flung the goblet to the floor. Burying his head in his hands, he bellowed for Pod to bring wine.

* * *

Dusk dimmed the natural light that illuminated the solar and Tyrion found himself straining to see the ledger. If he was going to keep continue working, he would have to send Podrick for candles. But before Tyrion could call for his squire, a tray of sandwiches and melon descended to obscure the page. He looked up to see that it was Shae who had brought it.

"You should eat something." She said simply, by way of explanation. He knew it was a peace-offering although she would never admit as much.

"And don't drink anymore of this." She added, snatching the jar of wine in front of him. He hadn't planned to. In fact, it had sat there untouched since Pod had brought it to him that morning. It had turned his stomach. But as Shae crossed to the balcony to empty its contents, she showed no recognition that it was nearly full and luke-warm.

The smell of the food wafting up from the tray and Shae's mutterings broke Tyrion out of the trance that reviewing the accounts always seemed to put him in. He had found himself to be a slow study at managing finances and it took his full attention. It was also taking a toll on him physically. Until he had shifted to follow Shae to the balcony with his eyes, Tyrion had not realized how sore he was after sitting behind the desk for hours. Hunching over the books seemed to have only agitated the crick in his neck left from spending the night on the chaise. Gingerly, he rubbed at the cramp.

After a few kneads, Shae was behind him again, chasing his hands away from his neck and replacing them with her own. The knots and tightness fell away as those fingers wormed their way under his collar and worked the flesh and muscle. Once Tyrion was sitting easier again, her fingers moved into his thick curls. Soon after their arrival in King's Landing, Shae had discovered that Tyrion relished having his hair stroked. She had spent many of those early evenings with his head in her lap, running her fingers through the golden hair. She had whispered to him, calling him her lion and sometimes he had purred at her in response. He had been giddy back then, with lust for her and the euphoria that always inflated him whenever he got away with defying his father. Now, he just leaned wearily into her caresses.

All too soon for Tyrion's liking, the circles being traced into his scalp stopped at the sensitive place behind his ear. Before he could protest, lips replaced fingers and he felt every muscle in his body go limp. His eyes drifted closed, his head lulled towards hers, and when a moan parted his lips, Shae's were suddenly pressed against them. For a moment, Tyrion only responded enough to encourage her to continue kissing him. Her tongue grazed his bottom lip and he complacently opened. But when her tongue stirred against his own, Tyrion's trance was broken and he reciprocated eagerly. He twisted in his seat and grasped the back of Shae's neck in order to gain better access.

Soon, however, they were forced to break apart for air. Taking advantage of the momentary reprieve, Shae moved in front of Tyrion and placed a knee on his chair as if she was preparing to straddle him.

"Wait," Tyrion murmured and gently pushed her back. He knew that she was trying to continue her apology but he also had his own to offer. But he also had his own amends to make and would not be able to properly communicate his remorse if their joining were quick and focused on solely on his pleasure.

Reluctantly he slid from the chair and in a few quick strides, Tyrion was in the hallway muttering orders to his squire. The boy dashed down the hall and returned with a cloak. Tyrion pressed a jangling purse into Podrick's hands and watched as he disappeared once again into the gloom, this time with instructions to take Bronn and a spare horse to Tyrion's favorite brothel and act as if the master of coin was hidden away, debauching himself. The ruse would buy him the evening free of his sister and his father's proddings, although tomorrow, there would likely be hell to pay.

Taking in a deep breath, Tyrion decided he didn't care and re-entered the solar. Immediately the air that he had just sucked in escaped his lungs. Shae sat in his chair, legs daintly crossed, gazing sultrily at him from beneath her lashes. The pale pink silk dress was pooled at her feet. Exaggerating the motion, she uncrossed her legs and stretched to reach the tray she brought with her.

"You should eat something," she said, holding its contents out to him.

"Mmmm. I really should." He agreed with a smirk that made it clear he was not referring to the food. He spread the cloak over the cold tiles, hastily stripped out of his own clothing, and held out his hand. Cheekily, Shae passed him the tray. He glowering at her in mock annoyance and unceremoniously slid the tray away. He offered her his hand again, and this time, she took it and allowed herself to be lowered onto the cloak.

Tyrion kissed Shae until he felt her lull into that love-drunken state. Then he sat back on his haunches. His eyes ranged over her porcelain skin, the perfect swell of her breasts, the gentle curve of her hips. As he drank in her beauty, he also pondered his strategy. When he was younger, his inexperience and unconventional looks had made him anxious about fucking. He still felt anxious right before he laid with a woman, only now it was the pressure of his reputation as a skilled lover that weighed on him rather than his inexperience. The time that he had spent with Shae had not eased that moment of nervous anticipation for him. His desire to please her had intensified it, even more so tonight, when he was almost desperate to ensure that she knew how much he wanted her.

From his periphery, he caught Shae's eyes flickering as she wondered why several moments had passed since he had last touched her. Almost cautiously, Tyrion traced the curve of her right breast. She squirmed beneath his touch and he reverently replaced his fingers with his mouth. She groaned. It was an exaggerated sound that she often made at the start of their lovemaking.

Tyrion rolled his eyes and sat back up. He had told her once, a few weeks after they had arrived in King's Landing, that he knew the difference between her spontaneous vocalizations and when she was faking. But she hadn't stopped and he still hadn't figured out whether it was a slow dying habit from her former life or whether she did it on purpose, knowing that it enflamed him to coax genuine sounds from her throat.

After studying her again for a moment, Tyrion dipped his head again and laid a trail of kisses from the top of her ribs down to her navel. He paused as she made the same groan again. Then he added another kiss to the line, this time, pressing his lips more firmly against flesh. When he finished the lingering kiss with a gentle nip, he felt Shae's hands urging his head to continue moving lower. There was no sound this time, except for a sharp intake of breath. A real response, Tyrion thought and grinned against her skin.

Instead of appeasing the lady, he scooted forward again, lips seeking her throat, his hands finding her breasts. Sucking, licking, and nipping, his mouth made its way to where his clever fingers were ministering to her nipples. His tongue took over for his right thumb and the newly freed hand moved to caress the side of her breast. It rubbed languid circles into her ribcage, waist, and hip bone before darting down to cup her sex. Tyrion dipped a finger inside her and Shae arched against him.

He lifted his head and pondered for a moment making another joke related to her earlier suggestion that he eat something. But Shae looked content, with a soft smile on her face and he decided against riling her. It would spoil the whole mood. Instead, he repositioned himself between her legs. His tongue quickly found the little bud that he had become so familiar with and fell into the rhythm that he knew that she liked. Soon, her hips were moving of their own accord and she was making the restless sighs and pleading murmurs that he knew were real. She was on the brink.

Tyrion felt his own need more sharply now. He pulled back and returned to kissing her neck as he realigned their bodies again. His tip teased her entrance and his muscles prepared to thrust, but then he hesitated. His elbows were painfully aware of the hard stone beneath them and he grimaced to think of their motions pummeling Shae into the hard floor. Chivalry demanded that he take the bottom and cushion her, so with practiced ease, he flipped them. Shae's knees gripped his sides and when she finally settled on top of him and began to roll her hips, Tyrion lost the capacity for conscious thought.

* * *

When they were finished, the couple remained on the cloak on the floor. Tyrion chose to ignore the chill seeping up through the wool and the stone tile that was slowly flattening the back of his skull. The alternative was returning to his marital chamber, but as he lay there, he decided that he would prefer another night in his old sky cell in the Eyrie to the awkwardness and narrow chaise that awaited him if he returned. It was not purely the lack of options that made him continue to lie there. The discomforts of the solar floor were outweighed simply by having Shae curled against him once again and at least temporarily pacified. Even if he still had access to his old chamber in the Tower of the Hand, with the bed with the plump pillows and soft sheets, he would not have gone.

Inevitably, his utopia was disrupted.

"Will you ever fuck her?" Shae's voice was so small that Tyrion thought that he was beginning to dream. He continued to lie perfectly still and took his time deciding whether he really was imagining things in his sleep. It soon occurred to him that if he truly had been asleep, he would have dreamed of Shae using that particular four letter word in a much happier context. The frustration and helplessness flooded back. Futilely, he hoped that she would believe he was still asleep and drift off herself.

But Shae was determined to reopen the conversation. "Tyrion?" She asked softly. "Are you aslee—"

"—No." He cut her off quietly but said nothing more.

"Tyrion." She persisted. "Will you ever fuck her?"

This time Tyrion responded. "I suppose I'll have to eventually." There was certain sadness, a tone of defeat in his voice. He knew how she would react to this truth, but he was out of lies, half-truths, and sugar coatings. Sure enough, he felt her warmth peel away from his side as she shifted to get up.

"Shae!" Tyrion said urgently as he grabbed her arm. "Know this. When—if—I ever have to, it won't change anything."

Shae didn't say anything but she stopped pulling away.

Tyrion squinted in the dark, trying to make out her expression. He continued, "Those words that I said yesterday in the Sept? They don't matter."

"How can you say that. You made a vow!"

"You have a short memory!" He chuckled sardonically. "I had already said the words to another. I am not bound by what I said yesterday!"

"Except yesterday you actually said them before gods and men."

"Fuck gods and men!" He spat fiercely. "I've never believed in the old gods or the new and as for the majority of the wedding guests that my father assembled-I don't care whether or not they believe I honor my word! Most of them don't even believe me capable of honor!

"But I do care whether _you_ see me as honorable, my lady." Tyrion's voice softened. His blind hand searched for her face. Upon finding, it he brushed her disheveled hair away so that his fingers could cup her cheek. "When I said the words to you, I meant them! _I am yours_ and you are mine."

Shae leaned towards him. "You are mine and I am yours," she agreed right before she miraculously found Tyrion's lips in the dark. He crushed her to him and pulled her with him to the stone floor. As Shae's leg slid across his hip, Tyrion felt himself grow hard again. Grateful that they had reached some sort of understanding, he let their dilemma slip to back of his mind. He would eventually have to bed the Stark girl, but that was months, maybe even years, in future and he would not waste any more time worrying about it that night.


End file.
